


For once, you were right...

by WilwyWaylan



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Gen, because those two are best buds forever, just some harmless stupidity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-19
Updated: 2017-10-19
Packaged: 2019-01-19 22:50:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12419910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WilwyWaylan/pseuds/WilwyWaylan
Summary: What in Heav... He.... Disneyland could have gone through Aziraphale's head to give Crowley a fern ??





	For once, you were right...

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kujaku](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kujaku/gifts).



> The prompt is very self-explanatory :p I love writing their banter, they are truly hilarious !

\- Angel, for the last time, I'm telling you, it's impossible.

Crowley crossed his arms, and for good measure, glared above his sunglasses. The offending angel didn't even bat an eye, instead keeping drinking his cup of tea. To add insult to injury, he was even thumbing through the book on his lap (a very old incunable that shouldn't even be in the same room as something liquid), looking supremely unaffected. The demon was starting to wonder if he should spill something, or maybe burn, when Aziraphale finally answered, with a serene smile :

\- Now, didn't we learn something about impossible and how we shouldn't throw this word around too much ?

\- Well, yes, Crowley answered after a pause. But we're not talking about something as small as the end of the world here. 

This time, Aziraphale looked up.

\- Are you telling me, Dear, that you place the end of the world as we know it *second* to your power of... persuasion ?

\- Are *you* telling me, Dear, that my power of persuasion would rank second to the end of the world ? Especially a small end of the world as we... didn't have ?

Aziraphale didn't roll his eyes, but he didn't need to. Crowley just grinned.

\- I am telling you, dear... the angel said. Oh, I don't even know anymore. What were we talking about ? Tea ?

\- Not tea, Angel. That... thing.

He gestured to the thing in question, a tall fern with bright fronds, innocently sitting in a ceramic pot. Aziraphale nodded.

\- Ah, yes. I think you and it will be very good friends.

\- Do you recall, Dear, that I'm not.... *friends* with plants ? That's not how I work.

\- I know. You scare them straight, you make... examples out of them. You don't play nice.

\- That's right, Crowley repeated proudly. I don't play nice. I'm going to scare your little fern like I did with the others.

Instead of retorting, Aziraphale simply sipped his tea and went back to his book. Crowley was starting his glare campain against the fern, when he thought he heard a muttered "we'll see...".

~*~

As promised, Crowley didn't play nice. He told his new plants the rules of the house. Mostly, grow beautifully, be perfect, *or else*. He injected enough venom in his voice to make everything shiver with fear in a five miles radius. That fern wouldn't last long. And then, Aziraphale would see who was right.

The fern didn't shrivel up with terror. Didn't turn pale with dread. Didn't even wilt a little at the edges when he threatened it while watering it ! It sat on his end table, happily photosynthetizing, and looking as bright as the first day. After a few days of absolutly no effect on it, Crowley even checked if Aziraphale didn't play a prank on him and gave him a plastic fern under the guise of a real one. But no. It was 100% fern, the fact that it was growing was proof enough. And a perfectly normal fern at that.

Crowley started to doubt. Had he lost his touch ? What if he wasn't threatening enough anymore ? What if he could never, ever scare anything or anyone again ? What a demon he would make ! As scary as a mouse ! But the other plants were growing as usual, beautiful and terrified of him. So no. He wasn't losing his skills. It was that fern. It was.... special. 

In the end, he decided to leave it alone. Okay, it couldn't be scared like the other ones, and that was weird. But it was sitting in the living room, apart from the others, and wouldn't set a bad example. They could live and let live, side by side. Maybe he could even study it ? Learn what was making it so special and immune to him. And then, he could track any sign of it in the others, and scare them straight right away ! Yes, they would see. All of them.

~*~

During one of their lazy afternoons, where they sprawled on his (obscenely expensive) couch, drank tea and read old and dusty books, Aziraphale briefly lifted his head from his reading, and glanced at the fern at the end of the couch. Then glanced again.

\- Tell me, dear, he asked. Is that the fern I gave you ? Or did you replace it after it shriveled and died ?

Crowley thought for a second that he could lie, to save face. But it was no use ; Aziraphale would see through any of his lies without any effort. Beside, they had known each other for six thousand years, they were way past the point of being embarrassed by things so petty. 

\- It is, he answered instead. I don't know why, but I can't seem to frighten it even the slightest bit. It's immune to my charms.

\- To your charms, dear ? I didn't know there was something that could be insensitive to you, suave as you are.

Crowley slid from his cushion to the one Aziraphale was sitting in, and put an arm around the angel's shoulders.

\- Well, I didn't think there was. Even angels fall for me. 

\- Even angels, really ? And how many angels did you seduce like that ?

Crowley rubbed his chin.

\- Oh, well, I don't really know. But there's only one that matters, and I would kiss him immediatly if I didn't want a mouthful of tartan.

Aziraphale obliged him by pushing his gigantic scarf out of the way. Crowley bent over to kiss him, and just before making contact, whispered :

\- You know, Angel, about that fern.... For once, you were right.


End file.
